Little Screens
A car crushed like a fly,
People trapped in, half alive.
Whispered prayers
Collective gasps and clicking tongues
Momentarily united “us”-
The sight is compelling enough
To pull us from our hand-held screens
A wave of gratefulness spreads, as always
Upon witnessing suffering
Sickening humans.
A forgettable blip in the sands of time
Will they see the sun tomorrow?
No care, no worries
We’re back to our little screens
There’s this cat that can speak
As a child’s dead on the beach
Temporary tears
Drones and walls and islam and cows
Yet another thing to outrage upon now
For a second there- we care
Even if through our hand-held screens
But it makes us infantile, as always
Left right centre starts every damn story
Blame games.
Various cloaks for an illusion of goodness
Will the the sun rise tomorrow?
No care, no worries
We’re back to our little screens.
